How to Paint A Rose
by K. Fang-sama
Summary: We have 2 ends! On one, there's a girl who's a great artist, but is always being brought down. On the other, we have a sin who hasn't slept in 11 years. When the 7 sins meet the granddaughter of Gerald Rein, what kind of adventure are they in for? envyoc
1. it cant be helped

**yeah, i kno i already started a different one tht needs finishing, but i couldnt hold this one in. **

**Ed: Figures! U cant finish anything!**

**shut it, shorty!**

**Ed: I AM NOT SHORT! **

**Al: No, brother! *grabs Ed***

**thx, Al!**

**Mustang: Learn to accept the fact, Fullmetal. Yer just a pipsqueak!  
**

**Ed: COME HERE AND SAY THAT TO MY FACE, I DARE YA! **

***chuckles nervously while fight starts* Plz, enjoy!**

* * *

"How to Paint A Rose:  
Chapter One;  
It Can't Be Helped"

It was just another day to her! The same girl with the purplish-red hair, smooth, creamy skin, and fierce amber eyes wearing the same mid-hem black skirt, with a white blouse, a red sweater-vest, white socks, and black flats as her school uniform. Yes, this was the average day for Obsidia Rein; you're average tenth grader, with her uncle being the Ash Crafter Alchemist (made up), Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc, and her grandfather being the powerful Gerald Rein.

Obsidia was an orphan, and her grandfather took her in before her uncle could object; they weren't good being in-laws. She would see her uncle on vacations, and on every other weekend, so you could imagine how used to trains she was.

If anything, she'd rather live with her uncle, and never see Gerald again. The man would beat her often, especially when her skill proved not useful; her art skill.

Drawing, painting, sketching, you name it! She was a practical artist, with the imagination only a someone turning thirteen would have. It was rather dark, sometimes, but she didn't care. The characters she drew, painted, etc, were her own, and she adored each one.

"Obsidia!" Her teacher called. Mr. Rengalli, was a science teacher for an advanced class, teaching them about the most advanced science known; alchemy. He had short blue locks, and slate like eyes to go with his dark skin. He was currently wearing a black suit, with a white tie.

Obsidia, sitting in her last block class of the day; a green walled room, and blue tiled floor, with only a few windows, was looking down at her art journal, once again, drawing one of her characters. "Obsidia!" The teacher called, impatiently. Whenever she was doing work, she was normally so distracted that she would ignore everything that was happening around her, just like she was right now. "Miss Rein!" He called, irritated.

Obsidia looked up, a bit startled by the call. "Yes?" She asked, dully. She was easy at hiding most emotions, except for her annoyance, hatred, and when it really mattered to her, happiness.

"I called you three times already! Care to repeat what I just told to the class?" He questioned.

She straightened herself up, putting her pencil down. "Our project is due next week, homework is the questions on page 87 of our textbooks, and you suggested that we all head to your review class for the finals that are coming next month. You also said that page 193 gives us some good study material, but you'd prefer to see us in you're review class. After which, you started calling me." She replied in her dull, dark voice. The class laughed at her being her ass-filled self. Okay, she doesn't completely ignore her surroundings.

Her reflexes were still sharp, so she couldn't be surprised easily, and her ears were trained so that she could hear the class at the other side of the large building if she wanted to. Bottom line, she was both smug, and very neutral.

Her grandfather made sure of that! She had to get used to it. Obsidia would often get beaten by him whenever she disobeyed, and old man Gerald wanted her in the house, working on paintings so he could receive even more money, and he can't handle that with her off on her own. It didn't matter how much she bitched, moaned, and complained, anyways, it was his way, or the dark room he'd always put her in when her attitude was too sharp for his liking.

The bell rang, ending school. As usual, she took her time picking up her things; she's not anxious on getting home, especially when she's at home for a straight two days before going to Central to see her uncle. "Miss Rein, could I speak to you for a moment?" Her teacher asked, politely.

She never really paid all that much attention to him, but him being polite was rare, so, naturally, she was a little curious as to what he wanted, and nodded. When the class dispersed from the room, he shut the door, and pulled a spare chair beside his desk. "What is this about, Mr. Rengalli?" She asked, standing firmly in front of his desk.

He waved a finger at her, a small smirk on his face. "Now, Miss Rein, after the bell rings, it's John!" She seemed a little surprised with his sudden change in mood. "Sit down, and we'll talk." He told her, pointing his thumb at the chair next to his desk. Confused, and curious, she sat down next to him. "Obsidia, there are a couple problems we need to discuss!" He said, with a troubled look on his face.

She was still lost. "Like?" Her dark voice making a slight innocent tone. She was never called out by teachers before, so it made sense if she could be dumbfounded at some moments.

He sighed. "Well, first of all, there's you actually. I know you get done with your work early, but I don't understand why you don't try working on the work you owe, but instead, you doodle." He stated.

"I don't doodle,...I create." She stated, going through her bag, and bringing out her journal. John opened the journal, and stared at it, quite surprised.

On the first page, he saw a sketch of a boy wearing a black skirt, braces on his ankles, and wrists, along with a black top with no sleeves, and showed his stomach, not to mention the headband her wore, with an upside down triangle, with dotted points. He was a scrawny boy, that's for sure, and he looked barely any older than herself. On the back of his thigh, there was a strange tattoo, but it was what else he was seeing.

The boy had his legs, and left arm in a frog's position, but in his hand was a knife with a a liquid on it, that he could only assume to be blood, for the background was in an alleyway, with two state alchemists on the ground, with dead shocked expressions on their faces. The boy was shot in the arms, and once in the head, and he seemed to be healing, even with blood trailing down his limbs, and his face, and as a bonus, the look on his face was pure evil. His smirk was of sweet malice, and his eyes held the sense of a murderer; hatred, madness, and insanity.

John paused his shock when his noticed a word at the bottom left corner of the page, and her signature at the right corner. "Envy?" He questioned, staring at her. She nodded. "You were working on this?" He asked, staring at the page.

"That I was working on when I was five, and finished it when I was six and a half. Would have been earlier, if I didn't find other inspirations. I've always considered that the title of the peace because it was the only thing I could think of." She explained as he flipped through the pages.

He stared at her. "Well, it's good to see you have a hobby, but can't this wait?"

"Not with 'grandpa' calling the shots." She explained, making hand quotes. The most she'd call him was an old bastard.

"Well, there's something else. I'm concerned that you have no friends to be around. You come here straight from home, you do your best, you don't sit with anybody, and you head straight home. Haven't you ever tried to make friends?" He asked.

Now, he was a councilor; she wasn't really a big fan of them. "Yes, but the old bastard did something to ensure I can't even talk to a girl. It made me annoyed. It brought on new things, with that, thus making envy my life; that's what I've lived by. And with envy, comes other things, all considered a sin." She finished.

"Have you reasoned with him?" He asked.

She scoffed, standing up, and taking her journal off his desk. "Oh, please! There is no reasoning with that man!" She claimed in disgust, walking her way to the door.

"Obsidia!" He called. She stopped short, just reaching the door handle, and looking over her shoulder with an ere reaching the room that spilled the annoying question: 'what?' "You don't just have to draw those! If you try to reason with others, it can bring new inspiration."

She smirked; a hand to her hip, and a chuckle escaping her mouth. "Mr. Rengalli, I know you won't understand, but the things I draw in this journal can't help but be made. I haven't a clue why, but I feel like these figures I draw are the only things that will ever know me." She walked out, slowly, leaving her teacher pretty dumbstruck.

_"What does she mean?"_ He wondered.

Night is upon the town of Central, and deep in the Homunculi Lair, we see a restless homunculus shifting back and forth in his black sheeted bed. The room was dreary. The walls were of a lighter shade of black, and the carpeting was gray, and the only light came from a window seat with dark green curtains to its sides, moonlight pooling through the bare window.

The homunculus had long green locks, and pale skin. Most of what you could see for what he was wearing was a black headband with a red, upside down triangle with dotted points, black braces on his wrists, and a black sleeveless shirt. He was very scrawny, and with each new position, he grew angrier, and more frustrated.

Finally, he jolted up, eyes wide open, revealing a purple color. The shirt cut itself off at the boy's abdomen down to his waist. Right then was where a skirt was visual.

He began to breath deeply, and hesitantly. He felt odd, that's for sure, and sleep for him wasn't really all that easy, no matter how many times he adjusted the bed, changed the sheets, pillows, and/or mattress. He was always restless no matter what, but quite frankly, he got used to it.

It had started almost eleven years before hand, and he had gotten used to it, but his attitude didn't, and with each restless night he didn't have to go out, he was getting even more angry, and envious towards the seven that could.

His door opened, and in the doorway was a succulent woman with very dark brown, almost black hair, pale skin, red cat-like eyes, and lips of a grand purple. She was wearing a long, dark purple night gown, cut at the shoulders, and draping down, showing off her brest, which held an odd tattoo. "Again, Envy?" She asked.

"What's it to you?" Envy spat at her.

"Again, Lust?" Another boy asked, rubbing his eye. He seemed older, with spiked brown hair, tanned skin, and red eyes. He was more built up than Envy, and he currently wore black pants, and a dark blue sweater.

"Afraid so, Greed." Lust admitted, ashamed of the fact.

Greed shook his head. "Abomination, get some sleep already! It's been, what? Ten years since you last slept sound?" He questioned, annoyed.

"Almost eleven." Envy growled out, trying his best to resist the urge to attack, even if he knew it was useless to try.

"Ya don't say?" Greed asked, arching a brow. Envy nodded, despite his mood; he was too tired to care. "What the hell is keeping you up?" He asked.

"We checked for everything that would, and even went through several bed sets trying to find out." Lust told him.

Greed smirked. "Maybe he's lonely, and needs a stuffed animal to cuddle with." He suggested. This gave him a dagger to the head. If not for what they were, Envy would've killed him at that moment. Greed smirked, removing Envy's favorite weapon when he's annoyed. "I know. Not helping!" He sighed out. "But seriously, though! What is your problem?" Greed asked, crossing his arms, almost sounding concerned, but more or less annoyed.

Envy got up, and moved to the window seat, and sitting down, staring out over the city. You could see the black braces around his ankles, and a strange tattoo on the back of his thigh. Why was he tired? He didn't have a problem until eleven years before, so why was he tired, now? He didn't even know what it was that was agitating him, and even if he did, the problem never went away.

"I don't know!" He answered, gritting his teeth, and tightening his hands into fists on his thighs. "I just can't help it! It started without any apparent reason." He answered. Lust and Greed turned towards each other, just as confused as the tired homunculus, then stared at him. The guy was practically glaring out at nothing. "But what I wouldn't to be able to again." He muttered.

Greed didn't hear it, but Lust heard it loud and clear. She looked at the sin in curiosity, and confusion. Something was obviously wrong with him, the question was what, and what to do about it?

* * *

**hope u liked it!**

**Ed: Interesting start, I guess...**

**Al: I wonder what this has to do with it.**

**Hawkeye: Too bad! None of us get to know until the next chapter!**

**xactly! Mustang, u mind doing the disclaimer?**

**Mustang: Sure! *clears throat* Kumerai-sama only owns the story plot, and her OCs. Fullmetal Alchemist, and all of its characters belongs to the author: Hiromu Arakawa, and to whatever company produces it on TV, and/or publishes the manga.**

**idk which ones, i never really payed attention!**

**Mustang: Also, keep in mind, that if some of the sins are a bit OOC, please explain in a calm form, for this is Kumerai's first time using them in a fanfic, and yes! She's read the manga, and seen some of the anime.**

**thx Mustang! Plz, listen to the disclaimer; I am serious about the Homunculi, but try my best. Well, hope u've enjoyed, and until the nxt chap...**

**Everyone: Later!  
**


	2. Pride! not prejudice!

**hey guys!**

**Al: I can't wait to see what happens in your story, Kumerai!**

**thank you!**

**Ed: *groans***

**Winry: Oh, come on, Ed! The stories don't always have to be about you!**

**Pinako: That's the reason she made it clear that Envy was the main character in this story.**

**Ed: That's what sucks, though.**

**oh, yeah, I forgot, you hate Envy!**

**Pride: I'm coming in this chapter?**

**so says the title!**

**Pride: Can't wait! But why am I here?**

**you play an important role, now let's get started before we spoil anything else!**

**

* * *

**"Chapter Two;  
Pride! Not Prejudice!"

It was official! Obsidia was annoyed. Mr. Rengalli had suggested her for art club, and conversed with Gerald, convincing him to allow her to show her skills, and if she does well in the first art show, she can keep going to art club. If anything, she was pissed.

The people around her were already starting a rouse; while normally she didn't mind, but they were making fun of her art, that they haven't even laid eyes on, and her pride wouldn't let her get passed it. However, she didn't want them going through her drawings, and then, rambling on and on on how much of a freak she was.

Now, Obsidia was in the art studio; many large windows, black painted walls, and white tiled floors, with some tarp spread out. They were basically assigned to create something that would be the root to the theme to their section. To Obsidia, this was a major relief from what she was forced to do.

She grabbed a canvas, and put it on a stand. She grabbed some of the paints, and began to work. She began to make the same boy from her first masterpiece titled: 'Envy.' She began with the face structure towards the left of the canvas.

She had made his skin seem like a pale cream color, which some found quite odd, and others ignored. She made an enraged, and threatening expression just by painting in the nose, and mouth. When she reached the eyes, she had painted painted his eyes a light, yet mysterious shade of purple; looking out, and seeming about ready to kill.

She went towards the headband, not forgetting the design in the center. She began to paint in the long, crazy, hair in an odd shade green. She began painting in the rest of his body. She had made the angle about ready to strike, for the boy held a knife in his hand.

She started the background. He was leaning against a blue bricked wall, and most would believe that a hallway was coming, as if ready to defend himself, but instead, she painted in a window. He was looking out it, seeing a girl figure, and boy figure together, seeming rather happy. She made those two shadows of the grassy plains they lived in. The sun was high in the sky, but shadows had roamed over the boy, in the secluding darkness of the room.

"Wow! That's really good!" A young voice commented. She looked down, and saw a boy with dark blue eyes, dark brown hair, and light toned skin. He was wearing brown shorts, and an orange t-shirt, with brown shoes. He was smiling, happily, and seemed rather interested.

"Thanks! You seem to be the only one who thinks so!" She said in the same dark voice, reverting her attention back to the canvas.

"I find that hard to believe!" He commented.

"Yeah, well, it's the truth!" She informed him, rather dully.

"Oh, right! I forgot! My name is Selim Bradley, the Fuhrer's son! What's your name?" He asked.

"Obsidia Rein!" She informed him.

Selim studied the painting, seeming to be staring at the figure. "So, what is the theme of your display show?" He asked.

"The seven deadly sins." She answered, adjusting the knife's shape, and color.

"The deadly sins? As in lust, wrath, pride, greed, gluttony, envy, and sloth?" He asked in a metallic voice, rather his sweet innocent tone.

"That be them!" She answered.

Now, Selim was glaring up at the canvas, and more or less, Obsidia herself. "Which sin is this?" He asked.

"Envy." She answered.

"Why is it the root to your theme?" He asked.

Obsidia sighed. She hated explaining the obvious, and by the look on her face, she believed that it was obvious. "Envy is the root to all the others. Without envy, there wouldn't be any other sins. And with envy, more sins grow. The others are just the most unforgivable." She explained.

Selim seemed unhappy, and more or less, suspicious. "Interesting!" He commented, darkly.

"Selim!" A man called. Everyone stared at the man called Fuhrer Bradley, who was waiting happily for his son.

"I gotta go! Thanks for showing me your work!" He said, happily.

Obsidia knelt down, and spoke so only he could hear. "Sure! Tell Wrath he runs a good act, Pride." She told him. Selim was slightly surprised by the girl's statement. "Yes, I know what you are. Yes, I know you're not human. I could tell when you first entered the room! If you want much of detail, you might as well make an appearance later. I'll leave the rest for you to find out!" She stated.

'Pride,' as she called him, lifted a smirk upon his face, looking very intimidating, but Obsidia took it in as nothing. "You do realize what you're doing right?" He questioned in the same dark tone.

Obsidia smirked. "Pride, I know you're not human, but I don't know what you are. However, I know enough to say that you and Wrath are not the only sins that were made. If you want answers on what else I know, you better have a peaceful discussion to bring with you." With that she stood up. "Thanks for stopping by, Selim! Tell your Dad I wish him luck in the future, k?" With 'happy' nod from 'Selim,' he went over to 'Fuhrer Bradley.'

Obsidia returned to her work, just as they left. "What is it?" The Fuhrer asked in a dark tone.

Pride looked back at the doors to the room. "She knows too much! How she knows, I don't know, but she could tell who I was in an instant." He explained.

His expression had begun to fill with malice. "Then, let's make sure we dispose of her!" He said.

Pride shook his head. "She seemed confident, and for what it seems, she only knows things up to a certain level, Wrath. Although, I am surprised that she knows Envy's appearance." He admitted, a bit more casually.

Wrath as he was called, absorbed the information that he was given. "Then we have no other choice, but to get answers." Wrath said.

Pride nodded. "I'll be sure of it! I'll be taking Envy with me, as well; the girl seems to have knack for painting him." He added in.

Wrath was a little startled by this news, but nodded in agreement, as he left the high school with his so called son. "Why did you go in there, anyways?" He asked, a little confused by Pride's actions.

He sighed. "For some reason, I felt drawn to the building; more importantly, her. There's something about her that makes my shadows crawl, and not in the way they should have." He answered. Later that day, they went back to Central.

* * *

**Told you!**

**Pride: Is there any other time I will appear?**

**Like nxt chapter, with Envy, and Gerald.**

**Lust: You have yet to explain Obsidia.**

**Yes, I do, but that's for the next chapter!**

**Wrath: So it would seem!**

**Sloth, do the disclaimer, please!**

**Sloth: Fine! Kumerai doesn't own Fullmetal Alchemist, just the plot of the story, and her OCs. Everything else belongs to those companies, and to Hiromu Arawaka. If we sins seem a bit out of character, please do not retort violently, for this is her first time allowing us to appear.**

**Thank you, Sloth! Well, I'll see you guys next time, with some more action! Atto shatto!  
**


	3. Claims of an Artist

**Okay! Here we go!**

**Mustang: I hope it's more interesting!**

**Shut up! *hits head***

**Mustang: Did you just-?**

**Yes I did, now, shut the fuck up, or else!**

* * *

"Chapter Three;  
Claims of an Artist"

- Envy's POV

I was excited to hear I might be able to murder someone, that night, especially with how much Greed's been on my back, lately. I could explain it in so many ways, but I don't want to kill the mood, just yet!

We came to this girl's separate home. It wasn't nearly as big as her old man's, but it seemed cozy. It was stone, of course. Probably gray. There were four tall, coned towers, and at each, there was a set of men, holding guns. Either the old man was very protective, or he was up to something.

Pride, and I climbed to the top, where the glass was at a point; pyramid shaped. The lights were on, and because of my eldest brother's shadows, we couldn't be seen.

The room was lit up by a large chandelier. The tiles were the lightest gray you could lay eyes on, and all around, the walls were of a dark blue. There was paint sets, and canvases all around the room, some being held up by stands.

I saw the girl he called Obsidia. It's not everyday you see someone like her! She had red hair that seemed to have mixed with purple, somewhat. Her skin seemed like cream, but her face was pale. Her eyes were amber, and they held a void of nothing, except a tiny hint of annoyance, and anger.

These eyes burned for one thing: vengeance. These eyes were truly interesting! The girl held a burning desire to uphold it to humiliate-no! Not humiliate! To kill! Yes, she was something else, but one that would be thrown away, soon.

She was on the floor, in a denim blouse, about two sizes larger than need be, black pants, and black sneakers. She was staring up at, who I thought to be, her so called grandfather, with blood trailing down her her face, from her mouth. I couldn't make much of him, except that he was bald, somewhat chubby, taller than Wrath, and was wearing a black suit, with black shoes.

"I don't care if it takes you all night! Finish the damn painting, and this time, make the roses the right color, you slut!" He said, punching her across the face, then storming out.

I felt like laughing, and at the same time, kicking the bastard's ass. There was something I didn't like about him. I didn't know what it was, and it was pissing me off!

Obsidia got up, wiping her mouth clean, before picking up her paints, brush, and removing a painting of black roses in a dark blue vase, with a light purple background that had only just started to be created. She moved it off the stand, and put on a clear canvas.

She was about to take a stroke with the light blue paint, but paused, sighing as she did so. "I know you're there, Pride! You and your brother can come out, now!" She called.

I was surprised when she called us out. This girl really was a freak. "Come!" Pride ordered. I did as I was told, just because I wanted to get this over with; I don't do girls, too moody!

We landed in the middle of the large room. I took a few steps forward, awaiting for something to happen. I was, honestly, getting irritated by the silence, simply because all the girl was doing was painting that stupid painting.

The girl sighed as she finished the basic shape of the vase, then turned around to face us. "Pride! Let's see who you-" She stopped in mid-sentence, staring at me. I think this was one of few times she found herself in shock.

She got out a black backpack and started digging through on of the pouches. She got out a medium sized, black, hard cover journal. She began flipping through the pages, then held the book sideways. She lowered it, continuing to stare at me. "Envy." She stated, her dark voice silent, almost inaudible.

I was surprised for the second time that night. She immediately knew who I was! How? As I continued to ponder this, I didn't notice her walking up to us, until she formed a smirk on her face, and giving us a low bow. "What?" I could only question.

She looked at me as if I were clueless. "What? I can't feel honored to have the greatest sin in my presence?" She questioned. I felt flattered, but at the same time, humiliated. "I'm not joking! Envy is a prestigious sin; the root of all the others. Without envy, there is no greed or wrath; no pride or lust; no gluttony or sloth. It is envy that is the fundamental piece of these sins existing, and if envy were to not exist, then there would be no sins!" She stated.

I was left wide-eyed. This girl was a smart one, and it wasn't like wasn't right, and I knew it! With this girl, it wouldn't seem as though I'd be annoyed as easily with others. "Impressive speech, but we are here for business." Pride spoke up.

She chuckled. "Let me guess! You're going to ask how I know who you are, how I can sense you, and how much of your plans I know, and if I know too much, you're going to kill me?" She questioned calmly, a smirk upon her face. "yes, I know how you think! Let's see, what I know." She paused, picking up her paints, and returning to her painting.

She had begun painting again. About five minutes later, I couldn't take it. "Today!" I trailed off, still pissed at her.

She let out a sigh, and turned her head to face us. "Sorry! I'm at least gonna try and get this done; if you guys do let me live, I have an old bastard to deal with if it isn't done." She explained. I smirked; the concept was reasonable. "Let's see! You're not human, I know all the names, all of your powers, and I know where you reside with your father, Dante. I know you've killed many of the victims I've drawn already, and I know you're making a pentagon transmutation circle going to kill the country, to make a philosopher's stone." She finished.

I was official! She knew way too much. Funny, though; she didn't know what we were. Too bad! "I hope you know what this means!" I started, getting out one of my knives.

I began to walk up to her. I didn't see fear in her eyes, but I did see the smirk form on her face. "Go ahead!" She started. "Dead or alive, it doesn't matter, as long as I have the one thing with me that could never leave my soul." She stated.

I stared. "What do you have that's so important?" Pride questioned. Him and I both wanted to crush it!

She let out a snicker. "Nothing you can't take away without betraying your own family. Something that has been helping me live, but was destroying me at the same time." She said, the smirk wasn't removed.

"And what would that be?" I asked, too eager as to not know.

She chuckled, and sat down on one of the tables. "Same thing that always keeps me up at night!" She answered, looking up at the sky through the glass. She lowered her head, and closed her eyes, looking rather satisfied. "Envy." She answered, her eyes reopening.

Pride and I were both staring at her, I knew that much. Forget freak, this girl wasn't human!

* * *

**I hope you've enjoyed!**

**Havoc: 'Bout time you got her in there!**

**Ed: The grandpa's a bastard, though!**

**That's the point! **

**Hawkeye: You made it pretty clear, then...**

**Ed, disclaimer! Before I let Winry come in here to see your broken arm; after I make it that way.**

**Ed: *grunts* Fine! *sighs* Kumerai-sama only owns her OCs and the story plot. Fullmetal Alchemist, and its characters belong to the author and the company(ies) that produces/publishes it. If any of the sins seem out of character, please excuse her, for this is her first time using them in a story.**

**Good job! *hits back***

**Ed: *falls to ground with a large thud***

***looks at hole in the ground* Um...Later, guys!**


	4. black heart

"Chapter Four;  
Black Heart"

- Continuing With Envy

We were both pretty surprised. I mean, this girl had just claimed to have me in the heart; at least my emotion. "Why is envy held to your soul?" Pride questioned.

She chuckled, the same dark look in her eyes. "Impossible for you to understand! If you knew anything about me, you'd know why I need envy, and why it makes me suffer. I always guessed it was a price of equivalent exchange. My life could go on as long as I suffered, but if I died, I'd be free! In a way, I find it impossible to accept or deny either. Whether I live or not, I don't care, for envy makes me immortal." She explained.

She was right; we didn't get it! "That still doesn't explain anything!" I spat at her.

She glared at me; this was the most intimidating person I've ever met, for she nearly made me scared. "Well, I guess I don't want to explain the torture of eleven years passed, but if you're that desperate, the old man is part of it."

Eleven years? The same time I couldn't sleep, and the same time she has suffered. She held onto me for survival, yet claims I was destroying her. That whether dead or alive, I made her immortal. And claimed that the prices through having me to help, and destroy are equivalent exchange. This girl was far beyond what I've seen, but I needed to know more.

Pride was about to strike, but I put up a hand, and gave him a look, telling him to stop. "Looks like we'll have to talk to Father before deciding your fate." I told her.

Both seemed rather surprised. She shrugged. "Doesn't matter! Whatever decision he makes, I'll be fine with." She replied. Obsidia didn't really seem like your average girl, and now, I knew that was beyond true.

Pride and I left, quickly. Can't risk being seen; we were told we could only kill the girl.

We stopped at the train station, and boarding the back cart. We easily got tickets-killing the guy who was selling them made it easy, and not expensive, thankfully.

Now, Wrath came in, and sat down with us. He glared at me. "Why did you stop the execution? The girl knew far too much; why not end her?" He complained.

God, I knew I was gonna receive a lot of shit for this, but I didn't care. "Research." I simply answered. The both arched a brow. I sighed. "Yes, she knows too much, I'll admit that! But, this is girl just isn't human." I complied.

"What do you mean? This girl-true, is a freak of nature-but is definitely human!" Pride retorted.

I shook my head. "Like I said, it's a project. I mean, let's think! How could she know about our plans, know who we are, what we can do, and at the same time, not know what we are, and never even meeting us until then?" I questioned. They eyed me, curiously. "Let's not forget, Pride! She also claims that when she dies, it'll be happily, but if she lives, she'll suffer. Not to mention, I have a theory about why I can't sleep!" I admitted.

"What theory?" Wrath asked, folding his hands, and resting his elbows against the table.

It was almost impossible, but I somehow knew it was true. "The girl said that she held me to her soul for eleven years. My theory is, by having this, she somehow found a way of seeing my memories; by accident, too! If anything, her going through my mind kept me up, and since she was awake for it, she was able to tell, and she knew everything about us. Thus, she was able to know what we looked like, and she was able to draw us in her art." I concluded.

They both seem puzzled. "And...how do you plan to prove this?" Wrath asked, more calm.

I smirked. "Simple! We just have to keep an eye on her, and study her, closely. If she's held to envy, then she, more than likely, has an explanation as to how she developed it. If we can make her forget that connection, she can't see anymore, I'll be able to sleep, and we can get rid of her." I finished. The two smirked at the last part.

- In Dante's Room

Pride had just finished his report to Father, and he was now glaring down at me, displeased. He walked up to me, slowly. I stood straight, ready to give a reason, and receive a punishment. Father stood straight, still glaring at me. Everyone who wasn't there was smirking, ready for me to be removed. "And, what is it about this girl you find confusing, and curious, Envy?" He asked me, trying to remain calm.

No joking around when you hear that voice, or you're dead. That, I knew all too well! "The girl had claimed of envy being the one thing she would never lose to her spirit; claiming that it didn't matter if she lived or died, for envy made her immortal." I started. He calmed, seeming interested. "She also claimed that envy was apart of the way she survived, and how she was suffering. Saying for eleven years, it has been the one thing that helped, and destroyed her. Equivalent exchange. This Obsidia girl has held some sort of connection to me for this long, which is why, I bet, I can't sleep! When we told her we might have to kill her, anyways, after reporting to you, she said she didn't care." Father raised an eyebrow. "In the end, I believe that the girl should be studied before disposing of." I finished.

Father seemed more pleased with me than expected, I didn't know why, but all he did was return to his seat. "Very well! Get rid of the grandfather, and send the girl to Central for a meeting!" He told us. "Gluttony, Lust! You're going back with them." Them being me and Pride. We all nodded before he returned to his chair.

- Lust's POV

I was on top of the building with Gluttony, Pride, and Envy, staring down at the girl called Obsidia, and her grandfather, Gerald. He was beating the shit out of her, that much we could see. Blood came out of her nose, and mouth, and there were too many bruises on her face to tell if they were separate.

"What makes you think I can't just get rid of you, bitch?" He screeched, punching her again.

She spat out a lot of blood before answering. "Because..." she said, exhausted, "that's not for you to decide; it's for them to!" She told him.

"Who's them?" He asked a bit more calmly. We came down just as she pointed forward. the man stared at Pride shocked. "Selem, so good to see you! This isn't what it looks like..." He exaggerated.

"Neither are they!" She told him, before turning her head towards Envy. "What's the verdict?" She asked him.

Envy smirked. "You get to live! The old man is a different story!" He told her, getting out his knives.

Now he freaked. "Guards!" He called. Men had come in from all angles. Pride used his shadow to get most of them, and my spears got the two behind us. The old man was stepping back, fear taking hold of his expression. "What are you?" He asked.

"You're that stupid, grandfather?" The girl questioned. The man looked down to see her face just as blood thirsty as Envy. "Four out of the seven deadly sins! That's what they are!" She answered. The man stared at us. "Pride, Lust, Gluttony, and the greatest of them all, Envy! These four are a scary combo." She told him.

We were insulted she called Envy the best, but she seemed pretty crazy, so I wasn't surprised. "Can I eat him?" Gluttony asked, drooling.

"Not for me to decide!" I answered, looking at the girl with questioning eyes.

The grandfather looked down at her, desperately. "Obsidia, please! I'll change, I promise! You'll get a room, your own feast, and 75% of the money that's made! What do ya say?" He asked.

Obisidia began to snicker, that turned into loud chuckles, then maniacal laughter. She slowly rose to her feet, a smirk on her face. "Don't leave any remains!" She told him.

"Okay!" The man began to run from Gluttony, but found it to no avail as he ate the head.

We were still looking at the girl, who was watching in sweet enjoyment. She straightened her posture, looking down at the flesh getting eaten. "Should have listened tome when I warned you, grandfather! If one becomes envious, they will find a way to get at you without you realizing it until it's too late!" She stated as Gluttony finished his meal.

"All done!" He said, plainly.

She didn't even seem bothered. "Don't forget to wipe your mouth!" She told him, sweetly.

* * *

**i hope you've enjoyed it, so far! Pinako, disclaimer, please!**

**Pinako: Oh, alright! Kumerai doesn't own Fullmetal Alchemist, or any of it's characters, just her OCs, and the story plot. Please excuse any mistakes with the Homonculi for it is her first time using them in a fanfic.**

**thank u!**

**Winry: Obsidia seems real crazy in this chapter...**

**Ed: Well, if you've been paying attention to how Gerald treats her, and how much she didn't like him, along with the fact she holds envy to her soul, then it should have seemed pretty obvious, at least to me, that she wanted to get rid of him.**

**exactly!**


	5. past relevence

"Chapter Five;  
Past Relevance"

It was another day at the Eastern Alchemy Station. It was raining, of course, but it was a soft drizzle. Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc was simply relaxing at his desk, as was everyone else, simply lounging around in the station, except for the fourteen year old Edward Elric, one of whom was sitting at the table, continuing to read a book on advanced alchemy.

Where Ed was sitting, he was the closest to the phone, so when it began to ring from it's position on the wall, he did have a slight jump. Everyone got a good chuckle out of it. "Well," Colonel Roy Mustang directed to the blond teen. Ed averted his attention to a smirking Mustang, a questioning look gazed at him. "Answer the phone, Fullmetal!" He told him.

Ed stewed over it a bit, before stomping his way over to the phone, and answering it. "Hello?" He questioned as calm as he could make himself.

**_"Hi, is this Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc?"_** Said the person on the other end of the line.

Ed looked over at Havoc, who was sitting back in his chair, head on its side, legs on the table, asleep, and snoring his way towards further dreams. He let out a silent sigh before answering. "No, just his secretary! May I ask who's calling?" He questioned the man on the other end of the line. The four currently awake were staring at him with such confusion, they couldn't comprehend to it.

_**"I'm an officer in the town of Amaranth. May I speak to the second lieutenant, please?" **_The man asked.

Ed knew Havoc wouldn't wanna wake up, and with how much time he's been spending at work, he wasn't surprised. With a silent grunt, Ed spoke. "Sorry, but he isn't in. May I take a message?" Ed asked him.

The man sighed. **_"I'm sorry, sir, but this is for only his ears, should I call him back?"_**

He seemed confused. _"Sounds like something real personal. Time to get a show started!"_ He thought with a smirk on his. "Well, I think-oh, look! There he is now; I'll go get him. Sir!" Ed had placed the phone down so that the receiver was against the filing cabinet next to him. Ed walked up to the lieutenant's sleeping form, all others watching, as Ed lowered his head to the lieutenant's ear. "HAVOC!" He yelled into his ear.

The second lieutenant let out a startled scream that left him scrambling his limbs around before losing his balance, and falling face first on the floor. His coworkers, and Al, had begun to laugh so hard, the second lieutenant didn't take long to stop being groggy. "What?" He complained to the supposedly shrimpy blond.

Ed gave him a straight face. "An officer from some town called Amaranth is calling for you, and it appears to be a personal phone call, Havoc, so I'd suggest ya get moving." He told him, taking a seat.

Havoc, slowly, got up off the floor, walked over towards the phone, and picked it up. "Hello?" He said. There was a pause before Havoc spoke again. "Yes, this is! May I ask why an Amaranth officer is calling me?" He asked him. There was another long pause before the next moment of speaking...kind of. "WHAT?" He shrieked. Everyone stared at a very nerve wrecked lieutenant, who was awaiting the rest of what the officer said. "Yes, she is!" He said. After a short pause, he sighed of relief. "Okay, thank you!" He nodded once. "Thanks, bye!" With that he hung up.

They stared at Havoc as he made his way back to his chair. He sat, slumped over the table with his head resting on his fist, a very disbelieved expression on his face. "What's wrong, Havoc?" Al asked in the awkward silence.

Mustang's look seemed concern, and then serious as it turned towards Ed. "You did say it was an officer from Amaranth, didn't you?" The teen nodded once. Mustang looked back at Havoc, that serious, yet concerned look in eyes not leaving him. "Was it about Obsidia?" He asked.

Ed and Al were staring at Havoc as he nodded. _"Who's Obsidia?"_ Is what they were both thinking, since it was the first time they had heard the name in the office.

Havoc simply nodded. "The officer said that they found some of the remains of my father-in-law in the cottage, where he lets Obsidia stay, and claimed she was shaken up when they showed up. The Fuhrer is sending her to Central and I'm expected to go get her!" He explained.

Everyone there seemed surprised. Ed had finally had enough, deciding to speak up. "Okay, just who the hell is Obsidia?" He questioned, almost yelling.

The other officers stared at the brothers before just remembering that they had never met her. Mustang cleared his throat before standing up. "Obsidia Rein is Havoc's niece, by his sister's blood. Her father disappeared when she was three, and her mother died a couple years after, in a fire. Her grandfather had claimed guardianship over her while she had weekend and holiday visits with Havoc. Last time she was here was two months ago, so it's no surprise you guys haven't met her." He explained.

Ed seemed to have calmed some, while Al just stared at Havoc. "Second Lieutenant?" He questioned. He gained the attention of the alchemist. "Is there a reason that her grandfather didn't let you see her more?" He asked, sympathetically.

Havoc sighed. "I always supposed it was because of some weird scam, but every time she came by, there wasn't a change, even if I asked, she said nothing was happening." He replied, bluntly.

"Yeah right!" They turned to Riza Hawkeye, one of whom was giving them a serious leer. "Your niece started as the cutest angel their was, but after moving in, she became more sour, serious, and not to mention how much of a loner she is, now. We're lucky to get her to say more than three words to us in a sentence!" She exaggerated.

The three seemed surprised but was soon directed towards a different voice. "That poor girl hasn't a single friend, and refuses to call us that, now! She would always keep quiet, and not bother to do a thing unless it was of her own." Armstrong added, wiping his eye with a hanker chief as a tear came out.

Mustang had only walked towards the table before speaking. "She's fairly skilled in alchemy, but her art is what truly represents her change. She had a bright one from when she was younger, however, after she moved in, she used her skills to create darker, depressing, and more painful art. She claims to find the inspiration from the thing helping her stay alive, yet makes her struggle at the same time. She says that is the reason life can never go her way; for it controls her fate. My guess is her way of seeing why she deserved what she was getting." He pointed out.

Ed stared with more confusion than shock. "Did he do something to her?" He asked.

Mustang shrugged with a sigh. "Well, I would assume so! She'd more than half the time come in limping, talked to us even less than before, not to mention how much skinnier she got along with how exhausted she felt." He answered.

"How'd you know?" Al asked, sitting up straighter.

He gave them one look that read of a painful memory. "I once kept her at my apartment so Havoc could take care of his night duties. However, once I got her inside, not only was she drawing dark pictures, but at the same time, I saw her yawns, along with dark bags under her eyes. I told her not to stay up late, and after she nodded, I went to bed. However, when I came back to the dinning room the next morning, I saw her still at the table, drinking a cup of coffee, in the same clothes I brought her in, along with over five pictures finished." He explained.

They were all shocked. "I never even noticed." Havoc muttered, his head down. They stared at him. "How stupid could I be to not notice her in pain?" He asked himself, intently.

Ed let out a sigh, before walking up to him, and placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think you're niece is just a good actress!" He said. Havoc looked up at him with a look of confusion. "If I were in her position, I'd probably not want you to worry. I'm not surprised she's been hiding this from you, Havoc, so don't worry; you'll be able to talk to her about it when you see her, but you need to catch a train, first!" He told him with a grin.

Havoc smiled, then nodded. "Right!" He said, standing up. "Come on! I need the first tickets to Central, ASAP!" He said.

* * *

sry i took so long! hope you've enjoyed!


	6. Understanding

"Chapter Six;  
Understanding"

Obsidia was allowed to stay in the Fuhrer's home, rarely ever seeing him or his 'son.' However, she was constantly being watched by a state alchemist, one of whom did not bother to speak, yet just watched her in dead silence. It's not like she minded, really, but it was a bit irritating to be watched while she painted, which made it hard to concentrate.

So, within the walls of the dull room, she sighed, placing down her paintbrush, before glancing at him through the corner of her eye. He, with black hair and blue eyes, standing near the windows, providing the morning light behind her. "Why are you watching me?" She asked, dully.

He stayed as he was. "Because I want to." He simply stated, amused. The smug hint in his voice was rather irritating.

She turned around. "Well, if that's the case, then can you do me the favor as to not stare, but do something else." She couldn't do her work with someone staring at her the way he was. The gaze that was filled with smugness and expecting something out of the ordinary to occur. What did he wanted to see, she didn't know exactly what, but knew full well she couldn't provide it at the present moment.

He smirked. "Would glaring suffice?" He questioned, his teasing voice carrying lust; a sound that nearly made her roll her eyes if not for the absolute respect she had for him.

"Actually, yes! It'll give me a better picture with the real thing." She stated, bluntly, before looking back at her painting.

He, slightly surprised, merely shrugged. His form had begun to change back into the thin, muscular, purple-eyed, green-haired homunculus that was Envy, giving her a stare that held confusion and some curiosity. "Why do you do this? I know I'm a marvel to oppose, but still, it's kind of weird." He admitted, casually. Truthfully, he just wanted some facts so he could kill her, already.

Obsidia smirked. "If it were truly that, you would have threatened my life, already. The fact you watch me from sheer curiosity is both amusing, and flattering." She stated, looking back at him, earning a glare in return. "But, if you must know, I paint the character, _you_, for the artist who creates such a person feels a connection. I know I didn't make you, for I knew you existed. More rather, it was you who painted me throughout my life." She told him.

Envy rested his head in his palm, slowly rubbing his forehead. She was being analogical, again, and he never understood the first one; that and the fact each one annoyed him, and he had to resist breaking her jaw so she'd shut up. Each explanation led to his brain wracking up against the wall of his skull, which created a huge headache, and very soon after, his further annoyance. The bad thing about observing somebody was that if you wanted to do it properly, you couldn't physically hurt them, if you wanted precise answers, and his father wanted them as precise as possible. Which meant he couldn't do anything to her should he get annoyed.

He tried his best to set his annoyance aside, due to his orders, and tried something else. "You said death makes you immortal, right?" He questioned. She nodded, curtly. "How?" In Envy's mind, he knew only one person who cared about her, and that was her uncle. Sure, he was a chatter box, but this country's life would end, soon, so he didn't see how she could live forever in a country that's dead. She had no journal, and she rarely spoke. Plainly speaking, Envy thought most of it as a bluff.

She chuckled at him. "I can see why you wouldn't believe what I said." She proclaimed, adjusting the look the eyes of her painting held as Envy glared at her, once more. "Well, how to explain it to a Homunculus, is rather hard, on its own." She added. Envy shrugged; she was a human, she was somewhat less stupid than average ones, but he only expected that she'd be confused when it came to the Homunculi. "But, let's start with a different question: have any of your murder victims stuck out in your memory?" She asked, calmly.

Envy thought it over, before looking back at her. "That kid in Ishbal, the princess of Switzaria,...yeah, a few! Only because they made things interesting, afterwords." He told her, truthfully. May as well! She is gonna die, and she's not gonna talk, so he saw no harm in telling her what things stuck out in his mind. Not as if she could do anything about it...

Obsidia turned around to face him, pointing her paintbrush; the bristles still covered in lavender paint; at him. "These people stuck out because they made things_ interesting?_" She questioned, re-quoting what he had just said to her. Envy only nodded. "To me, death, sin, darkness, evil itself is interesting, and made my life that way; I owe its ways to my first glimpse of you, and meeting you. So, in that way, as long as evil exists, and makes things all the more interesting, the longer our names seem to thrive." She explained.

At first, yet again, Envy thought she was nuts, and was getting frustrated, until he realized how blunt she made her explanation. In a way, she had a good point, and he easily understood it. The homunculus lived on, sins lived on, same as crime, darkness, and evil, itself. Centuries upon centuries of things that would repeat itself were all there, and it all made things gruesomely interesting.

Putting a bit more thought into it, Envy found that she didn't mean she'd be famous, but at some point in his immortal life span, he'd meet someone similar, if not that, exactly like Obsidia, and no one would have to remember her in order to become like her. That realization made him smirk only just noticing how plain obvious it was, but how oblivious it could be...

...The smirk turned into a glare, once more, as soon as he realized that Obsidia made it obvious on purpose.

She only chuckled. "What? You can have fun and I can't? I can give it to you in whatever sense I see fit; I only gave it to you that way because you would get frustrated with all the other ways I could think up!" She proclaimed, smiling, as if reading his mind.

This angered the Homunculus, with certainty, but stopped, considering the possibility._ "Then again,"_ he thought, _"it'd make more sense if she was!" _He tested this for a few moments by glaring at her, but the girl just shrugged and kept painting._ "Worth a shot!" _He told himself before leaning up against a wall. Which it was, for the girl was extremely thorough, and plain confusing, even if he was just observing her, and talking to her; obviously; made it worse.

The silence was long, and painful. If there was one thing Envy wasn't, it was patient, and the silence of the house was always so very irritating to him. He wanted something to happen! Sure, he treasured silence whenever he was annoyed, but he had seriously hoped that something else would come up so he didn't feel so bored, and that fact angered him.

Obsidia, on the other hand, used the time she was given in such silence to continue with her work. And with Envy getting riled up, again, she was very well able to continue her painting. In truth, the immortal male was rather easy to do things around, for his presence had always felt natural, and that fact made any form of mood he had calming. Real nice feeling to have when he could easily kill her; not like she cared if she died...

This one portrait wasn't like the one at her school. It showed a couple in a park, walking hand-in-hand through the bask daylight, as children played and as people appeared to laugh. It was a sunny picture with gorgeous skies, and glorious trees, however, like her other paintings, a certain someone stood out in the painting, and he was in a corner, crouching down in the bushes with a dagger, awaiting for the to walk by him so that he may strike, glaring at them in utter hatred and frustration.

The girl had just put the last few touches on her painting before looking over the canvas and at Envy, himself, seeing him glaring at the wall, and noticing how fidgety he was getting. She sighed. "Envy!" She called, a little anxious. The violet-eyed male looked up at her, his glare redirected at her to ask what she wanted. "Do you want to see it?" She questioned, pointing at the canvas.

He gave her a confused look. "Why would I want to?" He questioned her, a hint of annoyance in his voice. Sure, he was bored, but he definitely had better things to do than look at a human girl's painting.

"Because, you're in it!" She stated, bluntly.

Blinking a few times, the male shrugged and walked over to her, staring at her newly crafted piece. His eyebrow perked up, questioning the work he was seeing. True, he liked the fact that she had painted him, rather well, but he really didn't understand the other parts of the painting.

"It's a form of representation!" She informed him. She received a confused stare. "People who are envious do things for different reasons, and that's clear with a change of mood, or action. Stalking, rebelling, assaulting, and killing, are the most commonly seen. In this case, your character represents an envious lover, whose tired of waiting for hos love, and deciding to get rid of the competition." Obsidia further explained.

Envy took it all in, and he found it rather easy to believe, seeing that the couple in the painting were heading straight towards his painted self. He straightened his posture, crossing one arm around his chest and placing his opposing hand on his chin. The girl was right, yet again; people who became this way react in different ways, and it could all be because of their greed for power, wrath towards the person they can't stand, or in the case of her painting, the lust for a crush. He could see a bit more easily, in this sense, why she had called him a prestigious sin, and that was because these crimes, these things that appeared everyday, seemed to have started with him before forming into something else.

For the first time since he started his job, Envy actually smirked a victory. Maybe she was a bit less thorough than she was making herself appear. If so, then he had less doubt that he'd be able to crack her, soon. She wasn't exactly trying to throw him off, more or less, explaining herself in ways that she saw the best, in his mind, registered that she was just being that way so that she could have more time with them. Sure, she said she didn't care if she died, but the fact was that she was given time to spend with the people she looked up to as her teachers; the things that defined herself, and helped her raise herself off the ground. This bit, Envy knew, would come in handy, later on...

Quickly, the Fuhrer opened the door, the other sins Obsidia had already met looming behind him, and staring at her, intently. "We need to talk, Miss Rein!" Wrath said, shutting the door, behind them.

* * *

Fin! alright, guys, sry i took forever, but this is it. hope u enjoyed, and hope u stick around for whenever i update!

Ato Shatto,  
~ K. Fang-sama


End file.
